Winter's Sting Has No Effect When You're In Love
by TimeArbiter
Summary: M For Later Chapters   Prussia's in trouble!  Nothing really happens here.   I-It's kind of an epilogue, if anything..  Uwahh I don't know if I should post this as angst or not;; Ahaha, It's only Angsty here, I suppose.


Gilbert absolutely hated the wintertime. It was always so cold and uninviting. The same season that signified the coming of the years end, everything that happened, dying off with the life of the world. Snow blanketed everything, and simply smothered the life from it. 

But- It also reminded Gilbert of _Him_.

'That damned Russian. He and his frozen empire can go rot in Hell…' The Prussian shuddered. Seeing snow always enraged him. It reminded him of the merciless torture he endured at the hands of that sadistic bastard. How he wasn't strong enough, and couldn't defend himself. Every failed attempt leading him to more pain.

Those narrowed Crimson eyes scanned over the snow-covered hill, silhouetted by the clouded night sky. Darkness came much faster than he had first anticipated. He cursed under his breath, pulling a thick woven scarf tighter around his face, just as a whip of icy air lashed him in the face.

"D-Damn…" He spoke through chattering teeth, cheeks frozen and red. "C-Can't believe the awesome me got lost out here…" He groaned and stumbled, his feet numb and heavy, falling face first into a snow-bank.

A low rumble rolled from his throat, a sharp and violent shiver following soon after. He lifted his head weakly, looking out over his frozen grave. Such a foreboding sight for the Prussian that left him with a sharp throb of anger pulsing through his heart. "I'm so damn tired." He purred into the scarf, now moist with the melting snow around his face. At this point, it was causing him more pain than protecting him from the cold stinging air.

He sneered as another gust of wind blew across the open plain, the fresh powdered snow blustering about, washing over him like a crest of a weak wave. His eyes fluttered shut every now and then, all the strength he normally had was quickly draining from his body.

"C'mon—K-Keep moving.." He strained every muscle in his body in an attempt to move along, to get him away from this hell. He hissed at a sharp pop, his feet coming out from under him, sending him back into the snow. He cured under his breath, gritting his teeth at the stinging pains around his face, as he rolled onto his back. There were a few falling snowflakes landing on his eyelashes that created a kaleidoscope effect on the stars that dotted the boundless sky.

He shuddered, every breath he took created a fountain of steam from his parted lips, sending the faint warmth splashing down onto his frozen face. Gilbert would never openly admit he was afraid of dying. Not to his brother, nor to Roderich. In fact—he _laughed_ at the somber subject, brushing it off as though it didn't apply to him. But he knew very well that no one could elude death forever. Not even him. Although- There was something about him dying alone that set him at ease.

There was a reason that he acted so tough. Not to be arrogant on purpose, or to show off, but to create a sense of well-being for himself… If he was really as 'Awesome' as he always says he is, there's no way in Hell he would die, right?

Gilberts negative thoughts dissipated at the sound of crunching snow beneath heavy boots. He twisted his head to the side, eyes gaping wide. His heart fluttered when he saw the dark blurry outline of a figure on the horizon. The white of the snow, and the black of the sky made the world seem so simple. As though there was nothing left.

Just himself and the figure.

The sounds of the deep crunching snow stopped abruptly. Gilberts head twisted around to look at the stars, his vision now blurry, his breaths shallow and shaky. He winced, writhing in pain at the icy twinge, cursing over and over in his head. _Come on, dammit. _

Those heavy steps started up again—Slowly and cautiously. But—They were getting closer!

The Prussian's fading eyes fluttered open and closed almost rapidly, sleep attempting to overpower his whole body. Gilbert knew, however, that if he were to fall asleep now, there was no way that he would be able to wake up after that…

Out of the darkness, he saw the figure kneeling over him, a large coat protecting his body from the ice storm. Gilbert scorned himself, thinking about how foolish he was to come out here so unprepared like that…

"Gilbert…?" The small voice was nearly overpowered by the whip of the strong winds.

Those crimson eyes widened, nearly glowing with the hatred that he sated for both winter, and the man who had the most in common with it.

"I—Ivan.." He gritted his teeth and snarled, lashing out with all the strength he had left, furling his fist into as tight of a fist that he could, lunging up at the towering shadow above him. Oh, the feeling of his fist connecting with the nose of the other sent chills down his spine. He couldn't help but cackle at the sight of the bastard stumbling into the snow.

"Ha! How do _you_ like it, you son of a bitch!" He sneered falling onto one knee, growling at the pain surging up his spine. "Never fucking take the Awesome Prussia lightly…" He smirked, falling beside the man. His eyes fluttering shut for, what he figured to be, the last time.

But seeing those blood spatters on the snow made dying here just a bit better….

To Be Continued


End file.
